


Without Words

by andrewiel



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: :O, Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22652422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrewiel/pseuds/andrewiel
Summary: Neil isn't sure how to be like other couples, until Andrew reminds him that they're not.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 10
Kudos: 297





	Without Words

**Author's Note:**

> Hi pals. so I got really high the other day by accident and guess who came back to my head? These guys!! I miss them so much. It was good to be back for a bit :')

Wanting to be touched isn’t something Neil is familiar with. Those sorts of things, comfort and affection, were considered more of a luxury than safety for Neil. He couldn’t afford it, because comfort and affection slowed him down, and in order for Neil to live he had to be fast.

Touching isn’t something he’s grown familiar with, either. Not like that, like them, everyone else, who want to kiss and be kissed and tangle their fingers together in the eyes of the public. 

Andrew is a man of very few words. His control and communication often comes from his hands; by force or defense, by pushing people away when they’re too close, or pulling his family along the way when they stray too far.

Despite his lack of words and his tendency to touch, if they were in a crowd of one or a thousand, Andrew wouldn’t reach for Neil’s hand just to hold it. 

He’ll tug at Neil’s hair to get his attention, or pull on his sleeve when he wants to leave, and every so often he’ll hook his fingers into the collar of Neil’s jersey to pull him back into focus. But that . . .

When Nicky sees Erik, not even a crowbar could get them to part. Dan and Matt will hold hands even when it’s physically impossible for them to do so. Aaron once grabbed Kaitlin’s ass in the lineup for the bookstore, right in front of Neil and everyone else to see. Andrew and Neil, they just - they don’t do _that_.

People in love touch, is what Nicky said to Neil when he asked. It’s supposed to be another way to say _I love you_ when you can’t say it with words.

When Neil had heard that, he couldn’t help but ask, _Why can’t they just say it? Are they being gagged?_

-

Neil thinks about it, touching. It’s not in his wheelhouse. He’s lived a very long time without it, so he hoped he’d be able to power through it. 

They’re busier than usual, classes and practice and games, along with all those daily annoyances like sleeping and eating. Time feels strange, like someone bumped into the planet and threw everything out of rhythm. Neil can’t keep track of the days. He just knows it’s been several of them since he last kissed Andrew.

He thinks of what Nicky said, and doesn’t understand it. 

In the dining hall, Andrew picks at his plate as well as Neil’s as they sit together, their legs close but not touching. Neil thinks some more, but doesn’t come to a sensible conclusion before he’s nudging his knee off of Andrew’s. 

Andrew stops eating to look Neil’s way, one eyebrow raised as he takes in Neil’s hopeful face. He blinks, and seems to come to his own conclusion before fixing his attention back on the far wall of the cafeteria. 

Not one to give up, especially when he still doesn’t understand, Neil tries again later in the locker room. He pushes back Andrew’s wet hair where it’s fallen over his forehead, something he’s done before from time to time. 

Only this time, his wrist is abruptly caught and held still, Andrew on the brink of glaring at Neil through his bangs. Neil takes his hand away as if he’d been burned.

He feels stupid with it, because he doesn’t know much but he at least knows better than this. 

After practice he’s too tired to even brush his teeth, just about ready to collapse onto his bed when Andrew walks into their room, and suddenly Neil’s want for a kiss is more powerful than his need to sleep. Before Andrew can get to the ladder of his bunk, Neil stops him by grabbing at his sleeve and pulling him closer.

The door is shut, there is no one else. They can say a million words here, without ever having to open their mouths. Neil closes his eyes and hopes that Andrew will finish his sentence for him.

Andrew does, with enough force behind his lips to keep Neil wired for days. Neil wants to smile, even as his throat goes tight with sudden sadness. A breathy noise leaves his lips, and it’s only because he misses this, that’s it.

The bedroom door opens abruptly, light from the kitchen spilling in and fixating on the two of them. Andrew pulls away with a scowl, but keeps one hand fisted in Neil’s hair as he says to the intruder, “It’s called knocking.”

“It’s called _knock it off_ ,” Kevin says as he crosses the room and gets into bed, immediately burying himself under his blanket. “Our alarm is set for four hours from now. Go to bed.”

Frustration pours heavy into Neil’s chest, but it’s outweighed by the satisfaction of Andrew’s hand in his hair, his lips on Neil’s cheek. He kisses Neil quick and sure, before sighing and climbing up to his bed for the night.

Even knowing that he has four hours until they have to be awake, Neil wastes most of his minutes staring at the underside of Andrew’s bunk, wondering how he went nearly twenty years without this, wondering why he can’t last one more day of it.

-

“We’re leaving in five!” Nicky shouts, banging on their front door. “Move it or lose it!”

He leaves, his voice still audible from down the hall as he calls out the same message for Aaron.

They’ve barely been home for five minutes since finishing their game. Neil looks to Andrew, perched up on the kitchen counter with a beer in his hand, then to Kevin, who stands in the threshold of their bathroom nitpicking at his appearance.

“Leaving for where?” Neil asks, though he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“Edin’s,” Andrew says, staring at the label of his beer before taking a sip. “You should get dressed.”

“Oh.” Neil hides his frown, and hopes that’s enough to hide his disappointment. Obviously they’re going to Edin’s. It was stupid of Neil to forget. He just thought - he had hoped, maybe, for a day or an hour, or even just a minute, of just -

Kevin steps into the kitchen, a jacket now slung over his shoulder. He gives Neil an annoyed look. “Why aren’t you ready?”

If Neil could say it, he would. He speaks multiple languages and can utter a million different phrases, but the words _I don’t want to go_ are too heavy for his tongue. So he turns for their bedroom, and gets as far as his dresser before he can’t force himself to move any longer.

Neil is learning things, day by day. Like how it’s okay to be tired, and how it’s okay to not know all the answers. He can ask for help now, he can say _stop_ now, but he hasn’t been able to unlearn his every survival skill.

Up until now, Neil has been defined by sacrifice and survival. He never had a choice. Wanting this before could have killed him, by slowing him down and making him stupid. 

In hindsight, he could laugh - this is so simple for so many people, but for Neil it could’ve meant the end of his life. 

. . . but for Neil, there wasn’t anyone before Andrew. Neither of them speak this language. He doesn’t know what to do. 

The door frame creaks behind him, a shadow blocking the light from the kitchen. Neil looks over his shoulder at Andrew before dejectedly looking back to his dresser.

“Did you forget how to put on clothes?”

Neil’s mouth twitches into a brittle smile. He runs his fingers along the top of the dresser before sighing and bowing his head. For most people, he figures this would be the easy part, but Neil has been held at gunpoint before, felt a blade against his pulse point, and somehow that was easier to maneuver than whatever feeling this is.

“I don’t want us to go to Edin’s,” Neil says, all in one breath. “Not tonight.”

There’s a beat of silence, before Andrew’s quiet footsteps make their way across the room until he’s at Neil’s side. He says, half question, half statement, “Everybody else is already in the car.”

Neil’s fingers skate anxiously along the wood, itching to dig in and break something. He takes one more breath on his own before looking at Andrew’s face.

“I don’t care about them,” he says, and it’s like forcing fire through his throat. “I meant us.”

He doesn’t emphasize the word _us_. He can’t, but he hopes Andrew gets it all the same.

Andrew stares at Neil before pulling out his phone and typing a quick message. Then he turns the phone off, places it on top of their dresser, and guides his eyes back to Neil’s face.

Seconds are heavy as they pass, weighing more on Neil’s shoulders the longer they stare at each other without saying anything. What would Neil even say? Something stupid, something that would make Andrew push him away or pinch his skin. 

So Neil doesn’t say anything, and instead lunges for Andrew, like he’s wanted to all week and more. Andrew is ready, his mouth open for the kiss, where Neil happily meets him. He doesn’t mean to push Andrew into the dresser, but when the drawers rattle and the wood creaks, Neil is only fueled further. 

Andrew is still as Neil puts his hands everywhere Andrew will let him. They run along Andrew’s shoulders, his biceps, up his back and into his hair, and Neil lets out a breathy, satisfied noise when he finally gets his lips to Andrew’s neck. He wants Andrew to moan in that dark, rugged way he does when Neil bites down, wants to hear him hiss and groan and break.

But when Andrew places his hands on Neil’s waist, it’s Neil who breaks first, cut right down his chest. “Where can I -” he gasps, fumbling between words and open-mouthed kisses to Andrew’s collarbone. “- touch?” He feels close to shaking out of his skin, leaving behind his bones and his body. This is starvation, so Neil cannot help his desperation.

Andrew presses one hand on Neil’s shoulder, guiding him down to his knees. An ache forms in Neil’s jaw as he watches Andrew unzip his jeans, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. His breathing goes shaky, until it cuts out all together.

One hand fisted into Neil’s hair, similar to the way one would hold a leash, Andrew uses his other hand to free himself from his jeans. He looks down at Neil in question, only for Neil to already be gasping out his agreement.

Neil has less experience at this than Andrew, who is focused, organized, one step at a time kind of guy. Neil can’t be that contained. He takes Andrew into his mouth as far as he can before he has to cough. His mouth fills up with too much spit, too quickly. It leaks from his parted lips when he pulls off to take a breath.

That hand in his hair is enough of a guide, a push of encouragement. One breath is all Neil needs before he’s sliding his mouth back down Andrew’s cock. It makes something hot burst inside of him, pride like a flame down his throat and into his chest. He can’t stay still, wanting to lick and kiss and claim every part of Andrew that he can, because Andrew wants him to, because Andrew is letting him in.

He veers too far off track, kissing at the soft spots of Andrew’s thighs, making Andrew hiss and pull tight on Neil’s hair to lead him back. He’s ticklish there, not that he’ll ever admit it, even when he’s closing his legs around Neil’s head when they do this laying on their bed. 

Still, Neil goes with ease, as he always does. He looks up briefly to watch Andrew’s face, how tight his throat is with his shallow breathing. Both of his hands are threaded through Neil’s hair, while his eyes are cast somewhere just behind Neil. 

Neil takes in every movement, every touch. This isn’t familiar to him but that doesn’t matter, because it’s only the two of them. Only they need to understand this. 

He swallows what he can when Andrew comes, one weak thrust into Neil’s mouth. He wipes a small dribble from his lips with the back of his hand before starting to breath in deep again. His pulse is too hard to say much. Disappointment attempts to extinguish his earlier pride.

He looks up at Andrew and smiles, his sudden sadness too heavy to hide. 

Andrew tucks himself back into his jeans before reaching for Neil’s elbow to pull him to his feet. He studies Neil’s face once they’re level. Neil isn’t sure what he’s seeking, but he knows Andrew is the only one he wants to see it. 

Andrew kisses him then. His kiss is powerful, determined. He doesn’t kiss for no reason. He doesn’t touch without meaning, and he would never say what everyone else is saying, Neil is realizing.

The one in control now, Andrew backs Neil up while unzipping his hoodie, letting it fall off his shoulders and to the floor. They step over it on their way to their bed, both of them ducking to avoid hitting their heads on the top bunk. It’s a tight squeeze at first, even for them, until Andrew pushes Neil onto his back and settles between his legs.

Neil isn’t ever cold when he’s naked underneath Andrew. He isn’t even exposed. All those days without this, not knowing how to ask for this, that’s when Neil felt exposed. Here he’s covered and protected, he gets this, even without any clothes.

The blanket gets bunched up around their legs, Neil’s pillow falling to the floor. His face and chest are pressed into the mattress, his knees spread out on either side of him. Andrew is behind him, inside of him, still dressed almost entirely for Eden’s even though he never made it out the door.

Not much is said that night. 

Andrew keeps one hand on Neil’s hip, the other on his lower back. When he pushes into Neil, their skin touching, their bodies meeting, Neil can feel Andrew’s muscles at work, a sort of energy that isn’t even seen on the court. It pushes the breath from Neil’s lungs, and makes words impossible on Neil’s tongue.

They don’t need them, not when it’s only the two of them. 

This is their language, and if Neil doesn’t always know how to speak it, it’s because they’re still creating it. 


End file.
